The Daily Dump

A place where everyone (me) is welcomed to express their opinions openly and honestly. I encourage free thinking, free wheeling, off-the-cuff banter and monetary donations.

Monday, October 31

Confirmed: Child Molesters Scarier Than Ghosts

When I went off to college and started “living on my own” I found that I inadvertently adopted many of my parents’ customs, beliefs, rituals, etc. To this day I still use a rag to wash dishes even though a sponge is more convenient. I refuse to buy parmigiana cheese from the grocery store. And my perk coffee pot, for some unknown reason, is the lone exception to the rule that, “Everything, if touched, needs to be washed.” Like my mom does, I just rinse it out with lukewarm water and use it again the next day, the logic being “Why wash it If you’re only going to put more coffee in it the next day?” which is bizarre considering my mom washes the phone with Lysol and scrubs her vegetables with a product called Wash ‘Dem Veggies.

One of the more unfortunate hand-me-downs is a hatred for Halloween. My mom, sporting an irrational contempt for the holiday, used to pay my sister and I $20 a piece to not celebrate Halloween. She would buy us a couple bags of candy, give us our cash and treat it like any other Tuesday night. To this day I’m not sure why exactly she hated it so much. Maybe it was the scary movies with uneven plots, or the fussing with the costumes or the embarrassment of asking neighbors she didn’t like to give her kids candy. Or maybe it was the paralyzing fear that we would die from tainted candy given to us by malicious neighbors, hell-bent on taking out children who dare to extort candy from them with the ultimatum “trick-or-treat.” (This ultimatum was discussed at length by my friends and I the other night, the question being, “Why is it trick-or-treat instead of treat-or-trick, as in, “Give me a treat or I’ll trick you?” We concluded that it is merely a difference of intent, as in, “Give me the money or I stab you,” or, “I’ll stab you if you don’t give me the money.” In the former case your goal is to obtain the treat, without having to resort to a trick. In the latter, you are really a violent criminal who is determined to stab someone tonight, whether or not they give up the candy. Anyway . . .)

The few times we did go trick-or-treating as kids, we would return home, empty out our pails and immediately my mom would throw away anything that was unwrapped or homemade. She would then proceed to cut each piece of candy in half looking for poisonous needles. (Not just regular needles, I remember that distinctly. “Poisonous needles,” said to reinforce the fact that these people weren’t out to just hurt us, they were out to KILL US.) By age nine she had us so paranoid that eating the candy was an act of courage instead of an enjoyable time. My sister and I would hesitate, looking at each other with wide eyes before putting a Kit Kat in our mouths as if to say, “If I start choking, you know what to do!”

$20 and the promise of untainted candy became a blessing in the coming years. The only thing we really gave up in the deal was the costumes, which wasn’t a big loss really because I always had to wear a winter coat if I went trick-or-treating anyway. Meaning from the waist down I was a ninja / tiger / hockey player but from the waist up I was always just a kid in a wool coat. I would unzip my jacket before ringing another doorbell, trying to show them that I was a grim reaper, not a boy in a evening gown; but the effect was always lost.

So it was no surprise that my Halloween celebration this weekend consisted of a gathering of friends at my apartment, with only one of us in costume – my friend Scott who pulled off a spot on Robert Goulet. (The Girlfriend tried on the mustache at one point in the night. Thankfully I was out of room at the time, because from all the screams of, “OH GOD TAKE THAT OFF! TAKE IT OFF GOD!” I’m assuming it wasn’t a pretty sight.)

What WAS surprising, however, was that somehow the night turned into a round-table discussion on the misappropriation of punishment and lack of continuing legal action for convicted sex offenders; leading to one of the more unforeseeable moments of my life when Robert Goulet showed me how to use the [terrifying] sex offenders website to see all of the convicted rapists and sodomists in my area. The girlfriend became addicted to the site, sitting in front of the computer for half an hour, sipping her vodka/soda, her eyes glued to the screen. Every so often you would hear her scream, “Oh man! Look at this one!” and everyone would rush to the computer to gawk at a picture of Rapey McSex Offender as though he was an Agent Orange victim.

Then the night broke down into the usual “loud sing-a-long / let’s go get pizza,” leading to a hilarious encounter between my drunken, belligerent friend James and what appeared to be a slutty nurse. As we are crossing the street, Slutty Nurse is getting into a cab and James, for some reason seeing not a nurse but a bellhop screams, “Hey, Slutty Bellhop! Get me my bags!” I can only imagine this girl for the rest of the night asking her friends every ten minutes, “Are you sure I don’t look like a bellhop?”

In conclusion, I may not be an expert on Halloween, but here’s my suggestion – if you want something scary to do tonight to commemorate the holiday, forget the horror movies and Ouija board. Find some potentially dangerous candy, log on to the sex offenders website and refer to at least one girl you encounter as “Slutty Bellhop.” It’s a genuinely good time.

And carve a pumpkin because that’s fun too.


B.I. this post was genius. I laughed just about all the way through and I was thoroughly amused. You should right a book some day. I'll buy it! ;)
BTW your mom is a trip! lol


By Anonymous Anonymous, at 12:05 PM  

I agree - this is one of your best.

By the way - what ever happened to the 20 dollar rule? With inflation, shoudn't you be raking in at least 75 bucks per Halloween by now?

By Blogger T.G., at 12:11 PM  

Wow. My mother made my father take our candy to the hospital where he would x-ray it to make sure that there was nothing in the candy that would kill us.

Maybe that explains why I'm not a big fan of this day either.

Great post.

By Blogger Momentary Academic, at 12:25 PM  

My God - was I really that bad? And, no, he is not getting $75!

By Blogger belligerent mother, at 2:05 PM  

And I use SOAP and lukewarm water when washing the coffee pot!!!!!

By Blogger belligerent mother, at 2:10 PM  

Note: Moments later on the phone my mother admits that in the past she used no soap and only water.

By Blogger the belligerent intellectual, at 2:43 PM  

I never wash my coffee pot either. And my mom did the same thing. Except she would eat the candy saying she had to "check it that way." Handing back a half eaten Snikers bar I would just say "finish it..." So there is a twist, dress up your kid and send them out to find you candy. You get two rewards, free candy and revenge for all the grocery shopping you do. And she looked like a bellhop, what nurse wears pink?

By Blogger de Kooning's Spleen, at 2:44 PM  

Also, I completely forgot about the x-raying of candy done at hospitals. This really happened. I remember seeing it on the news. That's just insane. Also insane: Why hasn't "Law & Order: SVU" done an episode based on this yet?

By Blogger the belligerent intellectual, at 2:53 PM  

In looking at the Sex Offender registry, I found a guy who goes to my church. Now whenever I see him, I yell, "Bless you!" (don't want to piss him off) and run away.

By Blogger green_canary, at 2:59 PM  

$25 is a good deal. Is there any way I can sign up for that? Also for $5 I'll stop recognizing Earth Day, Arbor Day and Take Your Daughter to Work Day.

By Blogger The Voice of Frivolity, at 3:06 PM  

we are skipping the whole trick or treat dibocle and attending a costume party - and Xrayed candy, i remember that and i always wondered if you ate too much candy would you emit excess gamma rays or something?

By Blogger Fidget, at 3:40 PM  

I'd like to know why there's no picture of Scott in his costume - cause you know you have one...

By Blogger Belligerent Sister, at 3:44 PM  


keep it moving basically huh?!


P.S. is that really your mom posting comments?@B.I.

By Anonymous Anonymous, at 5:50 PM  

I'm going to put on my fat nurse uniform and carry my hand-poisoned candy directly to the nearest neighborhood sex offender, thus artfully combining several hallowed traditions with playful transvestitism and my deep-seated need for public service.

Thanks for providing direction for what was previously just another Monday night!

By Blogger wunelle, at 6:27 PM  

Did ever mother learn this Poisonous needles line at "parenting school?"

By Blogger Neil, at 6:45 PM  

Am I the only one who was warned of razor blades in candy instead of needles? I guess people in Maine are less (or more?) malicious.

By Blogger T.G., at 7:39 PM  

I guess they did learn it at some kind of parenting school, with some geographical substutions for needles, razors, pieces of glass, really pointy crackers, etc. I have no idea what I'll tell my kids. Maybe I'll just tell them that candy makes you ugly and unpopular.

By Blogger the belligerent intellectual, at 8:17 PM  

a coworker alerted me to the sex offender website and i'm also unhealthily obsessed with it!

By Blogger Sub Girl, at 9:08 AM  

My parents were also paranoid about the razors/needles/poison in the candy and wouldn't let us trick-or-treat as kids. They'd dress us up (in the same homemade clown costumes EVERY year), take us to a few relatives' houses for Kit Kats and quarters, and insist, "Wasn't that fun?"

I hate Halloween.

By Anonymous Anonymous, at 9:40 AM  

I totally agree with the being a character or whatever from the waist down but a normal kid with a coat from the waist up. I used to get so pissed that no one could see my costume.

to this day though, withougt having my parents obsess about it, I have feared tainted candy.

By Blogger Heather B., at 10:22 AM  

Please post a picture of me.

By Blogger [Disgrundled], at 11:18 AM  

Please post a picture of him.

By Blogger T.G., at 12:13 PM  

We are waiting with baited breath!

By Blogger belligerent mother, at 12:30 PM  

I don't have one with me, I'll have to load it up tomorrow.

That is if you cant wait until you HEATHENOUS BEASTS. Yes, heathenous is a word.

By Blogger the belligerent intellectual, at 12:40 PM  

this post and the queens blvd are now my favorites---but i must ask, where do you buy your parmigiana cheese?

By Anonymous Anonymous, at 1:08 PM  

Yeah I wanted to know that too! @Vesparosso.

Not that I sat up last night and said to myself *where does B.I. buy his parm* but enquiring minds at "rest" want to know! tee hee =p


By Anonymous Anonymous, at 7:22 PM  

anonymous scares me a bit

By Anonymous Anonymous, at 11:44 AM  

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